


Flying My Way

by tisfan



Series: Tony Stark Bingo [48]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Bad Flirting, M/M, Mechanic!Tony, spice running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Card 3023: Square: S2 - AU: Star Wars
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark Bingo [48]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030077
Comments: 28
Kudos: 222
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	Flying My Way

Pralla the Hutt was typical of her species; fat, slug-like, and an unappetizing shade of purple with green splotches that made her look rather like some fruit gone soft and rotten.

Tony hadn’t even realized Pralla was female until she spoke, and not even then, until the translator droid started yammering. As a point of honor, most Hutts spoke exclusively Huttese, even if they understood many languages. It was frequently the only such point.

Besides, the talk-droid made the Hutt look important. 

“The magnificent Pralla the Hutt gives you greetings, star captain,” the droid said, “and she hopes you will enjoy your stay at her palace. Make yourself comfortable, and she will be delighted to discuss business with you in the morning.”

She wasn’t, thank the Maker, talking to Tony.

Tony wasn’t the star captain. He wasn’t even a crewman on the ship. He was, in fact, a hired mechanic, brought in specifically to work on the specialized divan that Pralla used to move around her palace. Tony’s father had designed the thing, and been richly rewarded for it. But Hutts lived a lot longer than humans, so here was Tony, hoping he could fix it.

Because the Hutts did not like being disappointed. And there might have been that small incident with some damages in a bar fight -- totally not his fault, the other guy was cheating at Sabaac, and Tony did not like a cheater. He’d thrown Justin Hammer through a window. But it was Pralla’s casino, and she might still have been offended.

In either case, he needed to fix the divan. It was his only hope.

The space captain gave Pralla a quick bow, graceful and somehow sarcastic, like the Hutt didn’t deserve the respect she was demanding, but in such a flowing manner that Tony was pretty sure Pralla didn’t realize he was mocking her.

I like you already, Tony thought, watching him go, wearing all black and walking like people had damned well get out of his way. Tony wondered what ship he was flying. And why. And what cargo he was taking on.

And reminded himself that curiosity about a gangster’s business was likely to get him into trouble.

The line of petitioners moved forward, and Tony moved with it.

Finally, it was his turn. He presented his gifts and his best wishes, and allowed that he would be delighted to assist in the manner of mechanical difficulties with the repulsor tech that kept the divan floating.

“Her most excellent beauty, Pralla the Hutt, welcomes such a brilliant mind to her palace, and hopes you will be pleased to join the festivities this evening. She entreats you will stay behind as petitions are dismissed, to look over your father’s work.”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Tony said, trusting the talk-droid to add all the accustomed flattery and honorifics. Since the talk-droids were the ones who bore the first brunt of disapproval from the Hutt, he was pretty sure the droid was doing its best.

When the room cleared of everyone except her magnificent slugness and the talk-droid, Tony was beckoned forward. Obviously, it was very difficult for the Hutt to move off the divan. At least Tony had thought ahead and brought his portable lifts. “If it won’t trouble you too much, I’ll just slide these under here--” Tony was already moving “--and take a look at what the problem is.”

The problem was a squashed Klatooine paddy frog -- honestly, the Hutts ate the most disgusting things, which was only made more revolting by the terrible liquor they drank. Perhaps Tony should feel grateful, since the Hutts ate things that most civilized races wouldn’t touch, and therefore rid the galaxy of it.

Didn’t matter. Pralla needed a maid, not a mechanic. But Tony could fix it, quick enough. Consider his debt to the Hutts paid, and then get the kriff back to his shop before anyone could say anything. Pack his stuff onto a couple of veractyls and make for the jungle. Get as far away as possible. Because paying off a debt with the Hutts was almost as dangerous as getting into debt in the first place.

Hutts collected power and favors; and there was nothing they liked better than to reel back in a sure winner.

Staying overnight, drinking Pralla’s wine, partying with the gangsters; Tony could almost guarantee he’d do something stupid, and end up owing the Hutts. And this time, more than was fixable with a bucket and a scraper.

Maybe he could dodge the party entirely. Go see what ships were in the Hutt’s hangar bays. Looking at new ships could distract him from drinking and playing cards, at least. Maybe he could even find a ship looking to leave the planet and needed a good mechanic.

There was an idea. Ships. Off world. Find a new life somewhere away from this stinking swamp.

He carefully lowered the divan to the floor. “There you go, your magnificence,” Tony said. “Go ahead, give her a test ride, see how she holds up.”

Pralla’s talkdroid expressed the Hutt to be pleased, and Tony let another droid take him out of the throne room. “You mind if I duck into the hanger a bit, there, Shiny?”

Tony didn’t know if the droid had an objection. He wasn’t listening. He walked away from the beeping mechanical, gazing around.

One Radiant VII, blue with yellow accents. Hideous, but a good workhorse of a ship. It could use a new landing gear. A few more bumps and hard landings, and that baby wasn’t getting off the ground again. But the ship didn’t really speak to him -- it had modified weapons that had been badly installed -- and the crew was almost entirely Gand, which meant Tony would probably need an atmo suit to live on their ship.

Two non-standard light freighters, and then--

“Holy hell, that’s beautiful,” Tony said, stopping dead to stare at the gleaming ship.

“Thanks,” the star captain Tony had seen earlier said. “She’s my pride and joy. The Winter Soldier. A HDR-32 Dynamic. With modifications.”

“Of course,” Tony said. “You… uh… looking for crew? I’m a top-rated mechanic. Starships as well as weapons and droids.”

“My name’s Captain Barnes,” the man said, offering a-- cyber arm. “Why don’t you come aboard, and we can talk about it?”

“Sure thing, Droideka.” Tony nodded before he remembered that this was the man who was captain of a starship and who worked for a Hutt, and who might not appreciate Tony’s sense of humor about nicknames. Too late now, and while he didn’t exactly brace to get shot, he noted a certain amount of tension in his shoulders.

“Most of my crew’s not currently here, taking advantage of the Hutt’s hospitality and doing some trade,” Barnes said. “But I’ve got a co-pilot, a gunner, a reclamation expert, a drop-trooper, and Peitro.”

“What’s his job?”

“He doesn’t have one, he’s the boss,” Barnes said. “We’re here at his word.”

“Yeah? So, sounds like you could use a mechanic,” Tony said. A reclamation expert was smuggler code for salvage. Usually illegal salvage. People who wouldn’t ask too many questions. “And I want to get off the planet. So--”

“Sure,” Barnes said. “We’ll do a test trip, we’re headed to Taris, and then a restock at Nar Shadda. If it doesn’t appeal, you can probably get on another freighter from Nar Shadda, and we’ll part ways.”

“Sounds good,” Tony agreed, not missing the sharp look that Barnes shot him. “We can discuss pay after I look at your ship.”

“You in trouble with the Hutts?” Barnes surmised.

“Not. Yet,” Tony said. “But I don’t hold out hopes for my chances, unless I get out of sight, and hopefully out of mind.”

“Well, we have trouble onboard already, so you’ll fit right in. Come on, I’ll show you your bunk.”

“You could show me yours,” Tony suggested, because his mouth just did that sometimes, whenever he was looking at someone who was attractive and just a little bit dangerous.

“I only cohabitate with people who can dance, and drink, and still fly a starship,” Barnes said. 

Tony’s eyebrow went up, because he was pretty sure Barnes was actually flirting with him. Which was… nice.

“I’ll buy the first round,” Tony offered. 

Barnes grinned. “In case you’re flying solo after dancing, this is your bunk--” he jerked a thumb at a fairly standard rack. “--and that one, at the end of the tube? That one’s mine.”

Tony stuck his head in through the hatch, just to be an ass. “Oh, that’s a nice bed. I definitely want to be sleeping in that.”

“Come on, then,” Barnes said. “Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.”

“It’s a bargain, Captain,” Tony said, offering his hand.

“You can call me Bucky,” he said. “I only make people call me Captain when they’re under me.”


End file.
